“You’re only thirty-four, right? You have time.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He lets out a big sigh. “Have I ever told you about my dad?”
He’s mentioned video calling his parents a few times since moving in, but other than that, I can’t think of anything, so I shake my head.
“Growing up, I thought my dad was invincible, the perfect father. He worked hard at his job as an accountant for a local business, and numbers were never my thing so I thought that meant he was super smart. Then he’d come home and take me to hockey practice or run extra drills with me or just take me for extra timeon the ice.”
“He sounds really great.” And like the exact opposite of my completely unsupportive parents. I’m glad he had better ones.
Hudson smiles, his whole face lighting up for the first time since he got home from the failed date. “Yeah. He was never even a huge hockey fan until I told him I wanted to play, and then he went all in, learning everything he could about the sport and getting me everything I needed. I now know hockey is really expensive, but he did it without ever complaining, and he even took me to watch professional or college games whenever he could.”
I reclaim my abandoned glass of wine, silently offering one to Hudson who nods before he continues. “My mom was awesome too. She was a hairstylist at the salon in town and worked just as hard as he did. I know I was so lucky to have their support growing up, and I’m really glad that I can support them financially now, even if I do wish they lived closer.”
“Where are they now?” I ask, handing him his glass.
“Minnesota. I’ve always wanted to follow their example, to have my own family one day too, to support my kids the way they did for me.”
The way he says it, as if that future isn’t possible for him, breaks my heart. I hate seeing him doubting himself like this when I know for a fact anyone would be lucky to share that family with him. “You will. Don’t let a bad date discourage you. I know you’ll get there. You're going to be such an amazing husband and father, you don’t need to rush into it or put so much pressure on yourself.”
“Thanks,” he says with a small smile, his gray-blue eyes stormier than I think I’ve ever seen them. He takes a deep breath. “But that’s not everything. Seven years ago, when my dad was only fifty-two, he got up to go to work like any other day, and what started as a seemingly innocent headache, ended up being a massive stroke.”
“Oh, shit.” I was not expecting that.
He nods. “He’d gone into work after complaining to my mom that he must have slept in a bad position because his arm felt a little numb. A few hours later, he’d been rushed to the hospital and couldn’t move that whole side of his body. Now my family knows all about the BE FAST early warning signs of a stroke. I even try to do fundraising stuff with the team to help educate the community on stroke awareness and provide support for people who have had strokes and their families. But back then, we had no idea.”
“Oh my god, was he okay?” I can’t imagine how scary that must have been for his whole family.
“He’s alive. We’re so thankful for that. But he had seemed so young, and I was only twenty-seven at the time. No part of me was ready for that phone call. My seemingly invincible dad went from perfectly healthy to paralyzed on one side of his body, wheelchair bound, with speech and memory problems, just like that.”
“Is there any treatment? I’m sorry if that’s a dumb question, but I don't know much about strokes.”
He shakes his head, offering me that soft smile, still so kind despite the difficult topic. “That’s not dumb, I had no idea about any of it before it happened. He takes a lot of medications now, blood thinners, things to manage his cholesterol and blood pressure, and he’s had good results from his physical, occupational, and speech therapies over the years. He can support himself in an electric chair, feed himself his thickened foods, and communicate with us in his own slow way.”
“Wow. I’m glad he’s okay, but that sounds like it must have been so hard on your whole family.”
“Yeah, we’ve definitely had to grieve his independence, the person he was back then, but I’m so grateful that he seems to still enjoy his new quality of life. He’s constantly listeningto podcasts and watching documentaries. He’s maintained his desire to learn, even if he doesn’t retain the information like he used to. He still watches all my hockey games, and he’s constantly wearing Werewolves merch. I love it. Hopefully he and my mom will be able to come to our game in Minnesota.”
I smile picturing that. “Can I get his address before the game so the team can send something special?”
Hudson’s smile finally reaches his eyes. “He’d love that.”
I smile back, unable to look away when his gaze meets mine. “I’m glad he’s okay.”
“Thanks. He’s still my dad, ya know.” He shrugs. “Even if things have changed, his kindness and his love for his family still shine through the physical limitation his body now has. I’ve always idolized him, and that hasn’t changed. If he can still smile, still find the joy in life even after everything he’s been through, I’m not about to let a divorce hold me back.”
I probably look like one of those cartoons with hearts for eyes right now as I stare at Hudson, but I can’t help it. He really is amazing. Not many people would be able to remain so positive after everything he’s dealing with right now. He doesn’t even complain. Or bad-mouth his ex like I’m sure I would. The only thing he’s really talked about with his divorce is wanting to move on and how he wants to find someone so he can start a family.
And his impatience to do that makes way more sense now that I know about his dad. He must feel like he’s running out of time.
“So, is that why you’re so eager to date? Are you worried that you’ll have a stroke, too?”
He nods. “Having a parent who’s had one does increase my risk. But it could be anything really—there’s no way to know if or when you could get sick or injured. There are no guarantees in life.”
I guess he’s right. Why wait for what you want when tomorrow isn’t promised. I try to think back on everythingHudson has said about his hopes for his future since he moved in. He’s talked about wanting to date again, sure, but it’s always been tied to the fact that he wants kids. His comments are almost all about his desire to become a dad. When he was talking about how amazing his own father was growing up, his expression was as happy as I’ve ever seen him.
I have an idea. But I don’t know if it’s a selfishly motivated one, so I’m a little hesitant to voice it. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, Adrian. You can ask me anything.”
